


Dismissal

by dramasweety



Series: Inquisitor Alarion [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 11:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5003083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramasweety/pseuds/dramasweety
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite all their time together, Alarion still had doubts on whether or not Dorian actually wanted him. After all, the great Inquisitor of Skyhold shouldn't behave like a frightened little boy, right? No one would want him if they saw him for who he really was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dismissal

Alarion stood just outside the door to his lover’s room, hand resting on the wood. He wanted so desperately to give it the small push it needed to open. In his mind, he could clearly see how Dorian would be on the other end. Either the mage would be asleep or still reading by candlelight. At the sound of the door opening, he’d smile that one special smile only the elf received; then he’d say something witty. Then Alarion would laugh and banter back. They would tease back and forth until Dorian would slowly drop the casual conversation until asking, albeit flippantly, what the problem was. At which point Alarion would be free to either tell him, or silently curl up on his lap. Dorian wouldn’t push him, but he wouldn’t simply let it go either. Regardless of how the mage acted, he wouldn’t be able to properly relax until the issue was talked about. His active brilliant mind would run leagues, jumping to multiple worse case scenarios. If Alarion didn’t tell him what was troubling him, Dorian would assume and mentally create problems that the elf _may_ be experiencing, eventually blowing the whole thing up.

Alarion wouldn’t let Dorian worry like that. Especially when the problem was so small! Something as small as this didn’t have to burden him.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, it began to bellow in his head, ricocheting around. _Burden... Burden... Burden..._

Removing his hand from the door, Alarion ran it through his hair, turning away in self-disgust. ‘You’re pathetic, Alarion! Pathetic!’

Despite the guilt-ridden self-loathing coursing through him, Alarion couldn’t make himself move away any further than the single step from the door. Inside, his emotions raged against each other.  He was one part hopeful, yet two parts worried.

 _Surely_ Dorian wouldn’t judge him. Tease relentlessly, sure, but never judge.

But would he secretly find the whole thing childish and ridiculous? What if deep down he was laughing at him? The Great Herald of Andraste reduced to a pitiful scared elf. Even Alarion himself could see just how absurd he was being. Surely Dorian could and would see as well.

But Alarion wanted that warm comfort so much it _ached_. He was still scared and wanted to be comforted. Above all else, he didn’t want to be alone and there wasn’t a single person in Thedas he wanted to be with more.

What if Dorian didn’t want to comfort him? The thought felt like ice on his gut. No, no, no! Tears nearly pooled in his eyes. The old clawing ancient fear of rejection took ahold of the elf. No, Alarion didn’t ache for Dorian’s touch enough to jeopardize that. He would leave.

But before his legs could move, his entire body froze at the sudden motion of the door swinging open. Unable to even breathe, Alarion watched in horror as Dorian grinned at him, leaning causally on the doorframe wearing little more than a loose fitting white tunic and smallclothes.

Should he run? He was faster than Dorian and could see better in the dark. Even if the altus managed to keep up, Alarion could easily scale up a wall of some tower and hide on the roof until Dorian gave up.

His ears turned pink at the idea of the conversation the next morning if he did. Trying to explain why fleeing and climbing in the dark seemed like a good idea at the time didn’t feel like it’d be any less embarrassing than the impending doom of a conversation he would have now.

His glorious mouth moved, but the sound was lost to the pounding in the elf’s head. Alarion’s face grew warmer as he discovered that he was holding his breath as well as being unable to move from his spot.

Dorian chuckled, glancing only briefly away before returning. The loss of the gaze managed to free him, allowing fresh air to enter his lungs again. “I’ve seen you stare down an archdemon without batting an eye; but the sight of me has you immobilized and speechless? Should I be offended or flattered, _amatus_?”

Though he found it funny, Alarion was unable to respond with anything else but a shaking release of all the air in his body. It sounded closer to the sound of an animal dying than anything else.

Even though he didn’t laugh again, Dorian’s eyes shone with that twinkle they had as he smiled. “Of all the men I have left incapable of speech, you are my favorite by far. All I had to do was simply open a door. I know I’m breathtaking, _amatus_ , but this is quite the stroke to my humble ego. What an easy man you are to pleasure, Inquisitor.” Gently, he laced his fingers through the elf’s and gave him the slightest tug forward. “Come inside. It’s positively _freezing_ out there and I won’t have you making the heat from my fire escape outside simply because you happen to be frozen in place _thank you very much_!”

Allowing himself to be led with ease, Alarion found himself chuckling despite the lingering fear. “Was that pun intentional?”

Dorian shook his head with more theatrics than was necessary as he shut the door behind them after a quick glance around. “Such a pity. He finally speaks and it’s utter nonsense. Everything I say and do is intentional of course.”

“But of course!” Alarion replied with a spreading smile. It was so immensely relieving to have Dorian make this as painless and humorous as possible. But, then again, this was Dorian. What else should he have been expecting than the easiest person he could talk to? “And that slip that had you tumbling down the mountainside at The Storm Coast? You remember the one. If Cole hadn’t stopped you, you would have fallen all the way back down the path? That was intentional as well?”

“Of course.” He repeated with an eye roll. “ _Amatus_ , if I didn’t allow people to see what they assume are mistakes from time to time I would seem far too godlike to them. Maker knows we have enough of those types of people out there already. No need to make so many feel inadequate.”

Yet another laugh escaped his lips. “How immeasurably considerate of you, _ma’arla_.”

“I’m a giver. What can I say?” The twinkle in his eyes returned as he sat down on his bed. He wordlessly motioned for the elf to join him. After a small moment of hesitation, Alarion sank into spot next to him.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against Dorian’s side, resting his head on his shoulder. “And here I thought you preferred _me_ being ‘the giver’.” He mumbled quietly.

The laugh that followed sang to Alarion, making him smile into Dorian’s neck. “Oh you are impossible to talk to, Alarion.”

An easy silence followed. Alarion’s face was buried into his lover’s neck and his arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Meanwhile, Dorian’s arm sat tenderly across his shoulders. As warm as they were together, as safe as they felt, Alarion nearly fell asleep. It was his yawn that broke the spell despite how hard he had tried to wrestle the noise down.

Dorian shifted his weight, making his head reluctantly rise. The loss of his smell was worse than the loss of warmth.

Wordlessly, Dorian’s arm moved down from his shoulder and onto his back, rubbing small circles one it. It felt so good that Alarion nearly moaned. “So,” he started carefully. “Are you planning on telling me why you stood outside in this blighted cold for over half an hour outside my door? Or are you just going to leave me in suspense?”

Though a part of him wanted nothing more than to run, the elf instead leaned into his touch. “Couldn’t have been that long.” He mused.

“Likely longer, _amatus_. The ‘half an hour’ I had seen was only witnessed after I noticed you there.”

Unable to form a response, Alarion only closed his eyes. After a few moments passed, he finally mumbled, “You’re going to think I’m being ridiculous.”

“Of that, I have no doubt. Only a highly ridiculous elf such as yourself would have stayed that long out there without some form of coat.”

The rubbing on his back never stopped, relaxing the elf even though he still dreaded the confession. “I,” he gulped, closing his eyes again to avoid seeing his reaction. “I, well, I’m sorry to bother you. But-but I had a nightmare a-and I didn’t want to be alone.” Face flashing red, he buried it in his hands, hoping Dorian won’t notice.

Meanwhile, Dorian’s hand stopped and removed itself from his back. Alarion, though he realized it was pathetic, mourned the loss silently. In the next instant, he panicked. Dorian was so annoyed by him that he had stopped! Of course he was. What else was Alarion excepting? He could hear the words in his mind, hurtling at himself. _Needy_! _Childish_! _Unwanted_!

The panic was now bubbling inside him. No, no, no! It’d hurt far too much to hear those words from Dorian. He had to get away before Dorian had a chance to tell him just how disgusting he truly was.

“I-I’m sorry!” He blurted, voice scrambling along with his body. “I shouldn’t have bothered you. I’ll leave you alone. I’m sorry.”

At once he was on his feet, ready to flee. But he stopped as he felt Dorian’s hand briefly grab his wrist before letting go. Surprised, he turned around, but kept his gaze downwards.

Eventually, he raised his eyes to look at Dorian’s face. There was no escape now.  He’d have to hear exactly how needy he was. Though the words would wound deeper than when the others said so, he’d have to pretend not to care for both their sakes.

The look on Dorian’s face was about as unexpected as Corypheus having hair. He seemed neither annoyed nor worried. No, the far off look was almost one of deep thought.

“Forgive me, _amatus_.” The words came out haltingly. The rare display of sincerity warmed Alarion’s core, vanquishing his worry. “I truly am no good at this. Please, tell me what to do. How can I help?”

Alarion took a gulp around the tightening of his throat. He had to ask. The nagging feeling won’t leave if he didn’t. “You really don’t mind? Y-you don’t find it unattractive and needy? Disgusting, even?”

“Why would I?”

“Because that’s what everyone else says.” The moment the words left his lips, he wished he could take them back and bury them so deeply inside himself that they would’ve been impossible to find them. Too late now, though. Fighting back tears, he slowly sat back onto the bed. “Being scared about a stupid nightmare? Wanting to be comforted about something so minor when I’m a grown adult? They told me it was childish and needy. _Mae_ once told me no woman would find that attractive and the two men I’ve been in a relationship with agreed.” Dropping his voice and making it gruff, he intimated his last boyfriend. “‘You need to be comforted after a bad dream? I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a clingy pathetic display of dependence. Tell me you’re joking.’”

Dorian titled his head, his mouth curling. “You were honestly worried I would send you away?”

Alarion gave a small chuckle, though it held little mirth. “I can see the irony, yes. But, I didn’t think you would. How to explain?” A few moments passed while Alarion struggled for the right words. Despite the frequency they happened, he was still relieved to see Dorian waiting patiently through his silence. Overcome, Alarion dived into holding Dorian’s waist. The mage jumped in surprise, but slowly lowered his arms to hug him back. “It always hurt, _ma’arla_. No matter how gently they said it or how often, it hurt beyond words to heard them call me needy and pathetic.” Dorian made a noise somewhere between a snort and a scoff. “And the chance, regardless of how small or unlikely I thought it to be, of you saying the same thing was terrifying. I would have rather faced a High Dragon then for you to think that of me.” Now he was starting to ramble, unsure how to end the thought. “It’s probably one of my worst fears. If it hurt that much to be told that by two men I didn’t even like that much, it would have killed me to hear the same from the one I love the most.”

At once, Dorian’s arms stiffened around him. Confused, Alarion lifted his head to see his expression. Why such fear and... Wait, what had he said? “I’m sorry, _ma’arla_.” He whispered, placing a tender hand on his cheek. “I didn’t mean to break my promise. I--”

“Don’t.” Dorian whispered. Suddenly the elf was falling and immediately pulled into a strong hug.

“I won’t do it again, unless you want me too. I am sorry I broke my promise.”

His arms trembled ever so slightly. If he hadn’t been embracing him at that moment, the elf doubted he would have noticed. “Don’t.” He repeated.

Mind racing, he tried to think what exactly he was referring to if he hadn’t meant breaking his word. Finally, with a smile across his face, Alarion moved just out of the embrace enough to be able to face him. There was only one thing that scared Dorian more than a confession. “I’ll never take it back.” To show his point, Alarion leaned forward and gave him a slow, nearly chaste, kiss. It slowly melted Dorian onto him. “Never. I promise.”

Dorian nodded, bottom lip trembling. Unable to resist, Alarion tugged on that lip, sucking just so. Dorian responded in kind, his hands cupping the elf’s face, thumbs rubbing his cheeks. The kiss was almost innocent with how gentle it was.

When they broke for air, they separated only a hair’s breadth, both faces flushed.

Without warning, Alarion started to cry. Dorian jumped, eyes widening. “ _Amatus_...!”

He shook his head. “Thank you, _ma’arla_. Thank you for accepting me.”

Dorian looked so uncharacteristically scared. His hand hesitantly rubbed some tears away. “ _Fasta vass_! Stop that right this instant! You’re far more handsome when you’re not crying!”

But the elf only laughed, making more tears fall. “They’re tears of joy, _ma’arla_.”

“Even so, I detest crying.”

“Is me crying making you teary-eyed as well?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He snapped, though it only caused Alarion’s smile to widen. “I mean it!”

Though he would have loved to make Dorian squirm until his tears finally fell, the elf took pity on him and gave him a short peck on the lips before saying, “It’s really late. Can I stay?”

Dorian folded his arms. “Such a ridiculous elf.” He huffed. “Do you honestly think I am capable of saying no to sharing a bed with you?”

“Dorian Pavus, nothing is incapable with you!”

“It’s true.” He mused. “I am marvelous.”

Alarion chuckled before kissing Dorian soundly on the lips. Wordlessly, they fell down towards the bed, wrapped in each other’s arms. It took some maneuvering and lots of kissing before they settled into a sideways lying position with Dorian curled up against the lean elf. The mage was holding him so tightly against himself as if he was afraid he would leave.

‘I’m going nowhere, Dorian.’ Alarion promised fiercely. ‘There is nowhere else in the world for me. This is home. I am home.’

**Author's Note:**

> FenarielTheDalishMage was my amazing beta! Thank you!


End file.
